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MAMA AND ME When Mama's legs started getting weak Hot tears often burned my cheek; She grew old right before my face, I slowed my steps to match her pace; Filled with pain and in despair Mama had to take to a wheelchair; "Looks like my walking days are over," she sighed. I felt useless and helpless; I just sat and cried. My heart and soul were filled with pity, I spoke of going to doctors in a big city; Mama whirled on me very quick, "My legs might be gone, but I'm not sick!" "I'm so sorry, Mama!" I backed away, I was really ashamed of myself that day; Mama said, "This isn't going to kill me." "After all, what will be, will be!" She has had so many ups and downs, She sits alone at times and frowns; Although her pains are truly gross, She takes it in stride, is never morose; As I grow older I hope to be sure, To be brave like my Mama and to endure; Whatever pain and suffering life might bring, So I can be an example to my own offspring. Vote for this poem
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